I take a deep breath, wondering if things will resolve themselves that quickly. I can’t help feeling that they won’t.

Chapter Forty-Seven

RHYS

I push through the double doors to the pub, cracking my fingers and stretching out my neck and back after spending the majority of the day in my van. When I called the police, they asked me to drop into Woodseats Station to get the detail down in a more official way. I told them as much as I could and had begun to feel a glimmer of hope that they hadn’t found Susan, thinking maybe she had taken herself away to think, to heal. Until the officer mentioned a suspected sighting of a body down by the canal. Divers were heading straight down.

Michelle is working behind the bar again. My initial relief at seeing her is quashed when I realise I can’t reach out to her. I stand by the bar, watching as she finishes serving the customer before me. I want to place my arms around her and feel her hold me too. Almost as much, I wish we could at least be friends.

‘Hey, you,’ she says, moving to serve me next. ‘You okay?’ She automatically reaches for a pint glass, flipping the tap, her eyes pinned on me. She smiles, her eyes sparkling just slightly, like they always do. ‘What’s up?’

‘I need that drink,’ I say. ‘And food. I’ve eaten nothing all day.’

‘The chef called in sick. I can basically do you anything microwaved, or crisps.’

I bury my head in my arms. ‘Crisps, not Scampi Fries,’ I mumble into the bar. A packet of something lands by my side, swiftly followed by the pint. ‘You wanna talk about it?’ she asks.

‘No.’ I sound as sullen as I feel. ‘Not to you anyway.’

‘Wow, thanks. Way to make a girl feel wanted.’

‘I’m not supposed to be the one making you feel that way,’ I say out of the corner of my mouth. ‘That’s part of the problem.’ I sip at the beer then put it back down, suddenly not so thirsty.

‘I thought we were friends,’ she says, leaning into me. She smells sweet; her breath is hot on my arm. I close my eyes, digging deep for strength and resolve. ‘Rhys?’

‘We are, but we probably shouldn’t be.’ I stand tall. ‘Michelle, it’s not right. I can’t do this. I can’t be your friend because that isn’t how I feel about you and it hasn’t been how I’ve felt about you for a long time. Longer than I care to admit. And when he was here it was fine because I would never have done anything to hurt him. Or you. But now…’ My voice breaks, and I take a second to pull myself back together. ‘Now he’s gone, I’m finding it hard to justify staying away.’

She drops her head, straightening out a beer mat as she takes a deep breath. When she looks back up to me, her eyes glisten and she’s biting her bottom lip – now it’s her turn to keep her emotions under wrap.